


Together; Death Do Us Part

by deansexual



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean Loves Sam, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester in Love, Demon Dean, Demon Dean confronts Sam, Let's Take A Howl At The Moon, M/M, Sam Loves Dean, Sam and Dean were made for each other, Sam wants Dean alive, Wincest - Freeform, crowley - Freeform, supernatural season 10, wincest angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 09:43:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10186655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deansexual/pseuds/deansexual
Summary: “Did you not hear me, Sam? We’re intertwined in such a way that even now as I am a Knight of Hell, I almost can’t bring myself to kill you,” he chuckled, his hand falling back down to his side,” We were made for each other, Sam. God created us for each other, and the Mark knows this” Dean stated.





	

Dean stared at the ceiling, the feeling of being in his body felt heavy. He could tell Crowley was there with him, right by his side, patiently waiting. For what?

“You’re awake” He states, making Dean want to roll his eyes and reply with a sarcastic, witty remark. Instead, he continues to stare at the ceiling, and says something different.

“What happened to me?” He felt so calm asking the question, as if all the care in the world was gone. Like he had been trying to keep afloat in the angry waves of an ocean, but decided it was best to sink, letting the current take him wherever.

Crowley only stared at him, his neutral look now turning into a smirk, as if he was happy that Dean asked that question.

“Well, squirrel, you died” His words echoed in the room, within Dean’s head.

He remembered that, dying, right in Sammy’s arms. He remembered the taste of blood on his tongue, his vision going blurry before turning pitch black, and he just stopped breathing.

“You died with the Mark of Cain, and it brought you back” there is a pause, making Dean turn to face the King of Hell,”When you die with the Mark of Cain, and come back, you come back as a Knight of Hell” His smirk grew wider as he finished his sentence, like this meant victory for him.

Dean blinked twice as he stared at Crowley, he could now feel his hands on his chest, holding The First Blade. His grip tightened around the blade, his knuckles turning white. Although his expression stayed blank, Crowley could see in his eyes just how infuriated Dean was.

“You knew this” his voice was low, like a growl, and sent a shiver down Crowley’s spine.

The blade was talking to Dean, telling him to stick it right into Crowley’s chest. It wanted blood to be spilled, and what better way than to kill the King of Hell?

“I only knew that the possibility of you coming back as a demon was mere speculation! If you’ve forgotten, Cain was the only person to bear the mark, and only he would know” Crowley put off that he was clearly offended, but deep down, this was what he wanted.

Dean stared at Crowley, finally sitting up on the bed, his legs hitting the floor with a ‘thud’. The King of Hell flinched at the noise, clearly fearing what Dean would do next.

“I want to see my brother” He wasn’t saying it as if he needed permission, no, he said it as a final statement; nothing would get in the way of him and his brother.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Dean, You see, the Mark made you a Knight of Hell, and with the Blade you might as well be the Father of Murder” he licked his lips, and chuckled,” If you go in there to see Sam, you will kill him” He stated.

Dean pushed himself off the bed, blade in his right hand, his face no longer expressionless. His eyes were pure black as if they were bottomless, his lips curling back into a snarl.

“I may be the bearer of this Mark, but I will see my brother” His voice was as cold as ice, and it felt like frostbite to Crowley.

“Yes, of course. If you do happen to kill Moose, you know where to find me” He vanished right after he finished the sentence; if he didn’t, Dean might’ve ripped him apart with the blade.

Anger bloomed inside of him, the door to his room slamming right open.`He wasn’t shocked or even scared, no, he was excited. The power that was surging through, caused by anger, pleasured him.

He walked outside of the room, his head turning side to side, seeing if he could figure out where Sam would be. If Sam took his body home, laid him on the bed, he would be doing everything within his power to bring him back.

It clicked.

“Oh Sammy, we really were codependent” He chuckled, his black eyes turning into forest green when he said ‘Sammy’.

He wasn’t exactly sure how teleportation worked, but he didn’t exactly feel like walking all the way to their dungeon.

He pictured what it looked like, how dark and gloomy it was, with the devil trap in the middle. How it smelled stale with a tinge of blood. The air always felt heavy with something he could never quite put his finger on, but it was like despair.

His eyes opened, still forest green, and in the archive room. The two shelves had been pushed back, revealing the hidden dungeon, which was not empty.

“Dammit Crowley! Please! I’m summoning you! Come, dammit” Sam was crying out, rage and loss evident in his voice.

Dean cocked his head to the side, walking forward as silent as possible. The blade called out to him as he stared down at his vulnerable brother, wanting him to paint the room red. It was pulsing as if it had a heartbeat, and it wanted him to obey.

“I just want Dean back! Crowley!” Sam screamed, taking the bowl he was using to summon Crowley, and threw it against the wall. It smashed into pieces, scattering across the room.

Sam stayed on his knees, his hands covering his face as he sobbed. If Dean was human, he would have rushed over to his brother, and comforted him as much as possible. Now that he was a demon, he wanted nothing more than to end his life.

It disgusted him that such a strong person could crumble so easily all because his brother died, again. A smaller part of Dean was still human, but that didn’t outweigh the Knight of Hell part.

“Please!” Sam yelled once more, making Dean roll his eyes. Could Sam really not live without him?

“Quite down Sammy, he’s not coming” Dean said as he stepped into the dungeon, only 5 feet away from Sam.

His brother’s head stayed in his lap, not even moving to get a look at him. Dean wondered if Sam even heard him as there wasn’t a reaction, to his surprise.

The blade twitched in his hand, urging him to go over to his brother, yank his head up, and slice his throat. He would watch as the blood poured out from his neck, forming a beautiful puddle on the ground.

Or, he could tie Sammy up, and cut a piece of him off each day. He could start with the skin, skinning him until he is nothing but pulsing veins, muscles, and bones. Then he could cut chunks of meat off of him, keeping him alive for the process.

Just the thought of torturing Sam until he screamed for forgiveness, or gave his righteous speech, made him shiver with pleasure. It also seemed the mark was pleased with his thoughts.

“You’re not here. You died. I’m imagining you” Sam stated, his head still covered by his hands.

Dean moved closer, only a few feet from his younger brother. He was close enough to see that there were tears still spilling from his brother’s eyes, and blood was on his shirt. The smell of the blood filled his nostrils, and he knew it was his own.

“I’m very much alive, Sammy” his voice was so deep, echoing in the dungeon.

Sammy’s head cocked to the side, a hand moving away from his right eye. What he was staring at was his brother, no longer a corpse on the bed, and the injuries seemingly gone. 

“No, it can’t be. Metatron killed you, I carried you, laid you down, and left your corpse on the bed. I was going to beg Crowley to bring you back! How are you here?” His voice was filled with disbelief, as if he was in a dream.

The mark was calling out to Dean, hungry for blood. His hand was twitching, wanting to fulfill the mark’s wants, but not yet. A smirk tugged at his lips as he pulled his right sleeve up, revealing the Mark of Cain.

“It saved me, brother” Dean smirked, but it wasn’t like the one Sam knew. The younger Winchester could tell something was off, that Dean wasn’t really Dean.

Dean’s injuries appeared to be gone, as if he didn’t get into a fight with Metatron. Where the angel blade had passed into Dean’s body, ending his life, seemed to be perfectly healed. No scar or anything, just a tear in the clothing.

The swelling and cuts from the punches had faded away, as if they were never inflicted, too. If Sam hadn’t witnessed Metatron kill Dean, he would’ve doubted that was what happened.

“Dean” he said his name so quietly, as if saying it louder would make Dean disappear.

Sam moved his other hand away from his face, revealing his beautiful hazel eyes, which had been bright red/pink from crying. He had tear stains on his cheeks, which were flushed red.

The young Winchester used his hands to push his body up and off the ground, closing the distance between him and his brother. His hands wrapped all the way around Dean, as if to make sure he couldn’t leave.

“I thought I had lost you, again. I just lose you after everything, you’re all I have left, Dean” Sam cried into Dean’s shoulder, soaking it now with tears.

Dean didn’t react to the hug, not feeling anything from seeing his younger brother like this. No, instead he felt the mark’s power course through his veins, its wants fusing with his own. 

Sam pulled away, his eyes meeting with Dean’s as if he needed more clarification that his brother was alive.

“Aren’t you happy, Dean? What’s the matter with you?” Sam asked, scoffing in a playful matter. Although he tried to seem happy, there still seemed to be uncertainty, doubt, and sadness in him.

Dean cocked his head to the side, flexing his right hand with the blade. A smirk danced onto his face, his eyes turning pitch black, just as they once had when he was in his room. The mark tingled as he was embracing what he was.

Sam’s eyes widened as he took a step back from Dean, almost falling to the ground. He blinked once, twice, three times, and he kept doing so as if the eyes would go away. Maybe there was a chance he was hallucinating, or maybe even having a nightmare.

“I’ve never felt better, Sammy” Dean smirked, his voice not sounding as rough as it once did.

The way he had said Sammy felt wrong in every possible way, and it made Sam sick to his stomach. It made him want to tuck himself away from Dean, and hide from what he had become.

“Who are you? How are you possessing my brother?!” Sam asked, clear anger in his eyes. 

There was a huge part of him that believed Dean was possessed, but a small part of him knew that there was a chance that wasn’t the case. It had to do with how Dean said his name, just like how he would do when they were younger. No Demon could mimic that.

Dean chuckled, the blade tightening in his grip.

“You really are Naive, little brother” He said, eyes still dark as the night.

He used his left hand to tug down the collar of his shirt, exposing the Anti-Possession tattoo he and Sam had gotten long ago. It would prevent any Demon from possessing him, meaning it would be impossible for him to be possessed.

“No, you’re not Dean! You’re using his meat suit right now, because I carried Dean and he died!” Sam was infuriated, not wanting to accept the hard truth.

“Sammy, I am Dean” His black eyes flickered back to his forest green ones, his gaze still cold as ice.

Sam clenched his jaw, tears pouring from his eyes as he stared at his brother.

Just a day ago Dean was alive, not beaten or bloody. They were both together, not even thinking about death being so close. A little less than 24 hours ago, Dean had died. He died, his last words telling Sam he was proud of them.

Dean had died, he carried him into the car, drove his corpse to the bunker, and laid him on the bed. His eyes did not open, his heart did not beat, his chest did not rise or fall; he was dead.

Now he was being told that his older brother, who he had mourned and was prepared to do anything for so he could live, was alive. Not only was he alive, but he was a demon.

“Exorcizamus Te, Omnis Immundus Spiritus-” Sam abruptly stopped as there was no flinch or anger coming from Dean as he recited the exorcism. 

In all honesty, he seemed amused.

“Omnis Satanica Potestas, Omnis Incursio Infernalis Adversarii, Omnis Legio, Omnis Congregatio Et Secta Diabolica” Dean didn’t flinch at all, and Sam began to internally panic. 

Could his brother really be a demon?

“Ergo, Draco Maledicte, Ecclesiam Tuam Securi Tibi Facias libertate Servire, Te Rogamus, Audi Nos!” He exclaimed as he finished reciting the exorcism.

Dean blinked, extending his arms as he looked around the room, an amused look plastered on his face. His eyes flashed black, proving that he had not been possessed by a Demon. He even went as far as to fake yawn, mocking Sam even further.

“I was wondering when you were going to finish that” He said, sarcastically.

Sam’s eyes flashed with fear as he backed away from Dean, stepping into the Demon’s trap. The pieces of the bowl crunched from under his boot, filling the deafening silence in the dungeon.

The look of fear on his brother’s face gave Dean this pleasure that he had never felt, even better than reaching an orgasm. The look was just pure fear, nothing else, and it was absolutely delicious.

The mark just pulsed on his arm, it too was pleased by the fear emitting from Sam.

“H-How?” He asked, trying not to sound as if he was scared. His body language ultimately betrayed him as it showed right through, as if he was glass..

“The mark had another little secret to it, one that Crowley never mentioned” Dean looked at the mark, licking his lips,” The secret was more of speculation, but it was thought that if one died with the mark, they would become a demon. Not just any demon-”

“A Knight of Hell” Sam finished.

“1000 points to Moose” He pointed at Sam with the blade, winking at him. 

Hearing Crowley’s nickname for himself rolling off of Dean’s tongue felt completely wrong, and it made him want to vomit. If it hadn’t been for Crowley manipulating Dean into getting the Mark of Cain, they wouldn’t have been in this predicament.

“Don’t call me that” Sam tried to sound bold, as if he wasn’t scared of his older brother.

“Why not, moose? Does it hurt you when I say that name? Does it feel wrong that I, your older brother, am a demon, calling you by a nickname the King of Hell gave you? Guess what Moose, that’s life!” Dean growled, the room shaking with his voice.

The lights flickered, a few even blowing out. Although they couldn’t see it, both of them knew that the whole bunker was probably doing the exact same thing.

“Dean, I don’t want to have to do this” Sam said, almost choking on Dean’s name.

Dean scoffed, still pointing the blade at Sam. He wanted so badly to throw it right into Sam’s chest, where his heart was, and end his life. He wanted to watch his brother die before his eyes, just as Sam did for him.

“You’re completely right Sammy! I don’t have to do this, I don’t have to do anything,” Dean didn’t miss the flash of hope on Sammy’s eyes,”but where’s the fun in that?” His voice was low, and the lights had stopped flickering.

“Please, Dean” Sam begged as he stared into his brother’s eyes, taking a step toward him.

He wanted so badly to step out of the Devil’s Trap, and engulf him in a hug. Maybe if Dean was reminded of what he cared about, he would snap out of the trance he was in. Maybe if he yelled at Dean that he had loved him, his eyes would return to the green everyone loved.

“You know, if Dad were here, he would kill me. The moment my eyes turned black, he would have stuck a blade into my heart, not that it would have killed me, but he would have tried,” he stepped closer to the Devil’s Trap,”You won’t do what he would have done, Sammy. We’re too intertwined” his words sent a shiver down Sam’s spine, not going unnoticed by Dean.

Although he wouldn’t say it out loud as he was too ashamed, he knew Dean spoke the truth. Dad would have killed Dean the moment his eyes went black, no hesitation, but he wasn’t Dad. No matter what, he loved Dean, and could never hurt him.

Dean knew this, even as a Demon, he knew that the relationship they had was completely codependent, and they couldn’t live without each other.

It didn’t matter if Dean was a demon, Knight of Hell, or anything. Dean was his brother, and nothing would change that.

“If you’re a Knight of Hell, and you intend on staying this way, why won’t you kill me? All you have to do is stick that blade right into my chest, and it’s over” he stated, taking another step towards Dean.

He was another step or two from leaving the Devil’s Trap, another step or two away from Dean.

“Did you not hear me, Sam? We’re intertwined in such a way that even now as I am a Knight of Hell, I almost can’t bring myself to kill you,” he chuckled, his hand falling back down to his side,” We were made for each other, Sam. God created us for each other, and the Mark knows this” Dean stated.

Sam stared down at the floor, his cheeks completely flushed red. The way Dean was putting it made it sound as if they were soulmates.

“So if I were to step out of this Devil’s Trap, you wouldn’t kill me?” Sam asked, taking another step forward, almost out of the trap. He still didn’t look up from the ground, his eyes focused on the pieces of the bowl he broke.

“Look at me” Dean ordered, his voice vibrating the whole room, the lights going out.

Sam gasped, not knowing whether or not he should step back further, as far away from Dean as possible. He closed his eyes, not daring to look up, even if it was dark. Maybe it was a nightmare he was in, and he would wake up at any moment.

“Just look at me” his voice was much softer than before, almost as if apologetic.

There was a ‘click’ sound followed by the buzzing of electricity, letting Sam know that the lights had come back on. 

He tilted his head up so that he was looking straight, hopefully where Dean was. Very slowly, he opened his eyes, greeted by a foggy scene. Soon, everything became clear, and he could now see Dean’s face, his expression soft.

His eyes were just as soft as when they were younger, and Dean would tell him bedtime stories. His posture was slacked and not tight like moments before. 

“Dean?” Sam asked, wondering if maybe the Dean he was seeing before was just an illusion, and that this was the real Dean.

Dean’s hand moved up, an inch away from Sam’s face, stopping just before it reached into the Devil’s Trap. His soft expression showed that all he wanted was for Sam to nudge into his palm, so he did.

“Sammy” he said a million words with just one nickname, and Sam knew what he meant.

It was an ‘I love You’ and ‘I’m sorry’. It was everything they would never say, but did threw more than just words.

“You died…” Sam’s voice cracked as his hand held Dean’s hand against his cheek, welcoming the warmth that radiated from it.

He could still feel the cold body of Dean on his own, freezing him to his very core. The cold felt like emptiness, a new reminder that his everything was dead. Now, the cold was gone, and the warmth known as Dean, was back.

“Tell me this is real” Sam said, a lone tear falling onto Dean’s hand.

He stared into his older brother’s eyes, waiting for any signal that what he was feeling, seeing, was not his imagination.

In seconds a mouth was placed upon his own, sending a new type of warm throughout his whole body. For a while, Dean’s lips stayed completely still on Sam’s, not moving, until Sam just couldn’t take it.

He had spent so many years denying he had love for his brother, pushing away the shame and guilt he felt. When Dean died, he regretted never confessing his feelings to see if Dean felt the same way. Since he was alive, he would make sure to show just how much he loved him.

“This is real, Sammy” his voice was darker, just like it had been earlier, but it didn’t matter.

Dean’s right hand, blade still in it, pressed against Sam’s back, pushing them closer together.

Sam pushed his tongue into Dean’s mouth, tasting him. Even though Dean had been dead for a while, he tasted like beer, pie, and a tinge of blood. The taste matched Dean, and it was delicious.

“Dean” Sam moaned against Dean’s lips, sucking on his bottom lip.

“I know, Sammy” Dean moaned back, kissing Sam with more fire and passion.

They stayed like that for a bit, lips locked in a passionate kiss. It seemed like everything was forgotten, like time had stopped, and it was just them in the moment. Nothing could come between them, not even the Mark of Cain or anything else.

It was just them.

“Sammy, stop” Dean pulled away from the kiss, his hand still pressed against his back.

Sam had a worried look on his face, wondering what was wrong.

“We’re codependent on each other, even now as I am a Demon, you still love me. Even as I am a demon, a Knight of Hell, there is a human part of me that wants you, and” Dean licked his lips as he met Sam’s gaze, his eyes flickering back to black,” I don’t need any distractions” He growled, lips curling into a snarl.

Sam’s eyes widened as he was about to push away from Dean, and go back into the Devil’s Trap, but something pierced through him. The feeling of his insides tearing in half filled him, but it wasn’t quite as painful as the betrayal he felt.

“Dean?” Sam asked, his eyes filled with pain and betrayal. 

Dean’s forest green eyes could not meet Sam’s, looking off to the side as he pulled the blade from Sam’s body, letting it fall to the ground with a ‘thump’.

There was no need to check for a pulse to see if Sam was alive; the Mark could sense death.

It throbbed as blood was spilled, filling Dean with even more power, and a terrifying calmness.

He closed his eyes, inhaling as he took in this new feeling, his emotions becoming more and more suppressed.

When he finally opened them, revealing the black that he was taught to hate, he felt nothing. He didn’t feel love for Sam, remorse for killing Sam, not even calm. He just felt nothing, and that felt amazing.

The light bulbs exploded all around the room, the bunker, everything flying out of their original spots. Outside, thunder boomed as lightning struck down, the sky already turning dark.

Dean smirked as he knew that this was his doing.

“Let’s take a howl at the moon” he said, lowly.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to make this good and hopefully evoke some feels while I'm at it. I know I really need to get on my other works, but I just wrote this out and I wanted to share it as soon as possible. Kudos and feedback are greatly appreciated!


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